Green makes
the world...

"I love you for all the women I have not known"
(Je t’aime), Paul Eluard...

Inspirations
are like birds...

There is no bridge
of us any more...

When I do not find your black eyes
everything founders...

His swords never seek
death or vengeance, they only...

All the languages belong to the same arbour
the two outlet bugles...

The crucifixion of these geometrical shapes
in the air...

There is just personal death
and collective continuum...

Is it about my bookshelf
or is it about the depth behind all those books on...

Our death is intended
unless we prove otherwise...

It was only for a few moments
but they were infinite...